


Moth to the Flame

by FarFlungDreamer



Series: Man Hands on Misery to Man [3]
Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket, All the Wrong Questions - Lemony Snicket, Lemony Snicket: The Unauthorized Biography
Genre: KitXCountOlaf, Kitlaf, KitxOlaf, kit/olaf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:22:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24713041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarFlungDreamer/pseuds/FarFlungDreamer
Summary: Deciding to be done with something doesn't mean one is. After all, moving on is much easier than forgetting. Kit and Olaf both came out on different sides of the Schism. Their own morals and ideas took them down opposite sides of a fork in the road. The real problem with love is that it never leaves you entirely, a small piece will always stay behind. When neither of them had chosen to stop loving the other…  maybe moving on isn't as easy as they both decided it would be. Part III of IV.A link to a music video I created for this ship. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UfYpS1orf-g
Relationships: Count Olaf/Kit Snicket, Jacques Snicket & Kit Snicket & Lemony Snicket
Series: Man Hands on Misery to Man [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776865
Kudos: 11





	1. Kit

* * *

“I hereby declare, this Volunteer Fire Department House _shut down_ under mysterious and complicated circumstances!” Olaf declared, laughing loudly as he dropped a bottle onto the table top. The group of seventeen cheered around him and Olaf was rather pleased to note how big his troupe was getting. 

He glanced over to one of his member, who was trying to celebrate but failing miserably. Olaf couldn’t go and have pouters at his party! Besides, it was… better, having someone else in his troupe that was a former Volunteer. He would get things that Olaf found the rest of his troupe couldn’t grasp very well. It wasn’t their fault Olaf, himself, was the most _brilliant_ of them. He could use a second capable hand. Well. He chuckled to himself, not _hand_. If Olaf could shape the young man up he’d be a great asset! That’s why Olaf went after him when he heard about it.

Besides… F was _proof_ that Olaf had been right all along! He was completely unrelated and yet he decided that V.F.D. was wrong and the only way to stop the deadly poison? Not a stupid apple factory, pleading letters or a silly condiment, no… it was _fire_. F burned it to the ground and now the useful mushrooms couldn’t affect anyone could it? They also couldn’t be used against Olaf and his associates as planned, so that was helpful. 

The point! The Fire-Fighting Side was wrong, they were doing very wicked things and it was a brand new fire starter who saved the day. Olaf bet that just burned the Snicket’s and _Beatrice_ up. Maybe Kit would see what he’d been trying to say. Unlikely. Too stubborn… and oh of course L wouldn’t get it. He just thought too much of himself and he hated fires worse than most. How Olaf _loathed_ and hated and… well Olaf hated that man! It was really too bad the Snicket mansion had burned down before he ever touched a match, because it left Olaf with very little revenge to have after ruining L’s name, freedom, and life.

A small part of Olaf called himself on his bluff. He’d never burn down _her_ home. Olaf grunted frustrated at the direction of his thoughts and leapt to his feet to distract himself. He grabbed the pouting young man around the shoulders. Who cared about the past! F needed to learn to forget it. This week had been an incredible success and it further proved that Olaf was completely right and justified. He’d claimed yet another dazzling victory and he had barely done anything!

“Quite the show tonight!” Olaf said enthused.

“Er, yeah, yeah it was.” F smiled nervously.

“Talk about going down in a blaze of glory,” Olaf snickered. F looked uncomfortable and Olaf frowned. He really needed to let go of this, but Olaf knew it was hard to get all their lies out of your head. It took awhile to feel comfortable with the truth. He knew but that didn’t mean he was going to be patient about it.

“I went there once with my step-father,” F said, an angry frown pulling at his face.

“Well now you don’t need to think about it again,” Olaf pointed out and sat back into his seat. They had burned it to steel beams and ash. “I know you’ve seen _better_ fires, but this one had impact even if it was small.”

F looked down guilty at his… well non-hands, where hooks had been fixed instead. Gross. Hazards of growing up on a dumb submarine probably.

“Enough of that thinking! They’re just lies anyways F, this is no perfect world we live in,” Olaf told him and F looked up searchingly at Olaf.

Well of course, Olaf was one to be admired and looked up to! Besides, the world was filled with horrible things, like poison darts and dangerous mushrooms. _All_ people used what they had to for whatever they decided was right. So the nauseating notion that any one group could be perfectly correct and on the ‘right’ side things was just as ridiculous. 

F was still stuck in between all that and he needed a guiding hand. That’s why he came along. That and just like with Olaf, the V.F.D. fire-fighters had turned their backs when it didn’t suit them. Olaf had already explained all this to F though. He wasn’t going to repeat himself.

Sometimes it was necessary to do evil things for the right cause. At least Olaf had the decency to be honest and upfront about what he did. What had doing the right thing against the Volunteers gotten him, anyways? He was still _trying_ and aside from the success of hurting the people who had wronged him, Olaf had done nothing but lose an incredible amount of his family’s fortune on shows that weren’t entirely successful and _other_ people’s schemes. 

Olaf had his troupe now, he was going to start looking out for himself. To hell with making the world better by burning away the bad, the world was just going to stay horrible anyways. What good had ever come to Olaf for all the good deeds he’d done? **Nothing**. He just kept losing, except for his thespian efforts! Olaf had many glowing reviews regaling his talents as an actor! He ought to have just looked out for himself from the very beginning and he wouldn’t be in such bad situations. 

F was still frowning, affecting Olaf’s good mood with all these thoughts, so Olaf slapped at his wrists.

“These are proof of your greatness! It’s to be applauded!” He cried. “ _You_ can see the truth when others don’t want to. You weren’t afraid to do something about it or too afraid to lose something for it.”

Olaf had never been afraid! Er, F, hadn’t that was.

“Well, thanks,” F said with a slight smile. Finally! Now he was getting it. “It was just the only way to be sure the Medusoid …”

“Yes, yes,” Olaf cut him off, waving a hand. No need to go on with _that_ boring tale again. “Well it was stylish!” Olaf announced, setting a drink in front of him. He poured himself another. It was time to celebrate! That was that.

“Er,” F held up his arms and shook his hooks. Oh. Right. Olaf glanced around before leaning over the counter to pop a straw in the drink. Ha, there! He grabbed his own drink before he turned on his stool, waving a hand over his crowd.

“Not to mention you’re now part of my _famous_ acting troupe! On your way to success!”

“I’ve always thought I’d be a great actor,” F said with some proper excitement. Olaf doubted it, but he could be a good second man at least. “It’s sort of what we already learned to do right?”

“Bah, they taught you merely a _fraction_ of what there is to know! Stick with me and you'll learn lots of new things.”

“Thanks!” F said, grinning now. Olaf looked at him trying to push the drink closer with a hook.

“You could really use a shave, though,” Olaf muttered, looking closely at the other man’s beard. He looked like a pirate with the sailor’s beard and the hooks.

“Oh…” He muttered, frowning. “I haven’t figured out shaving yet…”

“Wait, I’ve got it!” Olaf gasped dramatically, ignoring he’d just spoken. Olaf grabbed F by his shoulders again, his glass being shoved further away from his still unsteady grip. Olaf leaned in and waved a hand slowly in front of them to declare with enough enthusiasm to woo a crowd. “Your stage name! Ah! The Hook Handed Man! Proof you're one of us, a part of _the_ Count Olaf’s troupe! Spreader of the loud truth!”

“Wow... you thought of that for _me_?”

“Titles are amongst my limitless talents.” Olaf grinned. Besides he hated calling anyone by their initials anymore. That’s what the Fire Fighters would want them to do! No, they would refer to each other as stage names. The Hooked Man’s first name was too hard to try and pronounce anyways. Besides, Olaf had forgotten it already...

The Hook Handed Man grinned at him and Olaf returned to his drink with a pleased smirk. Oh he was very clever. Now the newly appointed Hook Handed Man looked properly ready to celebrate a night of victory with all the booze they had at the only store in this stuffy boring town!

Olaf guzzled his drink and when he set the empty glass down he saw… his name? It was blurry from the glass. Curious, Olaf brushed the glass aside and peered down at the heart.

Olaf and ~~Georgina~~

~~Josephine~~

Kit

Olaf frowned deeply down at the vexing thing and then quickly clapped a hand over it. He glowered to his left at the Hook Handed Man and then glanced around the room. Everyone else was fooling around not paying attention to the two of them over here.

“We need more to drink, how about you go and find something?” Olaf prompted.

“I thought we bought it all?”

“Well maybe there’s more!” He insisted, pointing at the door with his hand and then fumbling to quickly slap the other over the carving.

“Well, alright, I’ll see!” F said, smiling at him before turning around to exit. Maybe he wasn’t smart enough to be his second, the Village of Fowl Devotees had a curfew. Olaf didn’t care, he was already ignoring him, pulling his hand off something he’d done years ago. 

Olaf stared for a few moments at the carving before he sneered. She was _taunting_ him and his good work taking down this old ‘safe place’. Who knew what would happen to it but this firehouse wouldn’t be fighting any more fires, or filled with the damned other half of the V.F.D. Olaf could almost hear what she’d be saying if she were here. 

‘You just destroyed somewhere important to us!’

Nag! Nag! **_Nag!_ **

_“I can’t wake up to anyone who does nothing but destroy.”_

Olaf snarled at the memory and snatched his pocket knife out, scratching angrily at her name near his. To hell with her! A man like him declares his love on a balcony, willing to overlook what happened, and she had to be… be so _her_. Stubborn and stuck in her ways and... Errrrr.

He dug harder into the wood, looking down in a fury until all he could see was the K. He poised the tip of the knife on what was left. Then, after a moment of hesitation, Olaf frowned and eased the tip off. Well. There would always be _something_ between them.

Olaf wrapped his hand around the bottle of liquor, sighing as he pulled it into his chest. Olaf + K. That’s what she wanted most anyways, her precious firefighting Volunteers. Even after Olaf had used his own tattoo and position in the organization to sully their reputation. Kit would rather be stubborn and think they were right than see the truth _all of them here_ saw. So actually, just _K_ fit, didn’t it? That was her side, and Olaf had made it as clear as the title of a play where he stood. Everyone else knew. Her _annoying_ twin certainly kept failing at tracking and taking Olaf down. He got away each time.

He gave it a last unsettled glance before he put the knife away to heave up the rum bottle, pouring it down his throat until it felt like he was drowning from the burning. He’d drown _her_ out… no, better, he’d drink to his own victory! Another safe place taken from his enemies, they’d be all the less effective.

“Ah!” He grinned, lowering the bottle from his lips. Olaf stood up and spun with his arms out. “Here’s to wonderful, _loud_ destruction!” He cheered, and his drunk companions cheered around him. See! He didn’t need _them._ Or their old, ashy ways. He definitely didn't need _her_ approval. Olaf didn’t need to think about any of them! They were irrelevant, stuck with their heads buried so deep in the books they tried to justify everything with, until they burned with those pages. It hadn’t stopped Olaf from defeating them time and again!

F, er the Hook handed-, maybe that was too long? Well he actually came back with some wine, to Olaf’s surprise. There was hope yet for him! Olaf grasped them from him without much thanks and picked between two different reds he’d found. Their party kept on with the new resources. 

His mind was working against him, though, because the more he drank, it seemed the more ‘Kit’ kept talking. Olaf was used to it. She usually did have a special way of haunting him after he’d started drinking but just before he got well and truly plastered. 

He really ought to drink _more_ , then he wouldn’t have to deal with the in between. Then again, none of his schemes would go off so well if he was drunk all the time. They’d be _fine_ , but when it came to the fire fighting side, Olaf sobered up. He needed his full attention to spin his incredibly complex and _perfect_ plots against them. Tonight was no such night, so he ought to have gone to a different town for better liquor, to get her whispers out!

‘Why here? You and Jacques became friends here!’

Olaf turned his head with a long frown, looking over to the fire pole that had caught his attention. Yeah, after he proposed. Jacques insisted they go on this mission together. He wanted to bury the hatchet, he’d never approved though had he? Olaf bet the traitor loved it now. He was probably so pleased that Olaf lost Kit. 

The two men had gotten so drunk here. The night before they were finished they screwed it all up and Kit had to come get them out so they didn’t blow the entire headquarter’s secrecy…

_“Hellloooo!” Olaf called as the door swung open again. “What are you doing here, love?!”_

_“The_ same _thing I was five minutes ago,” Kit sighed, pinching at her temple. She sent him a vexed look but Olaf just smiled at her attention._

_“You should have a drink!” Olaf offered, throwing his glass in the air, causing the contents to splash out and down the side. He wobbled slightly to the left._

_“You’re good, trust me,” She shook her head and walked towards him. Olaf tried to smile smoothly, but he couldn’t keep track of his facial features anymore. “Your turn, Jacques is safely passed out in the taxi.”_

_Good old Jacques! Why did Olaf ever think Jacques didn’t like him very much? It was just that weird, I’m hooking up with your sister thing, probably. He was actually rather funny if Olaf could look past the monologuing or quoting that seemed to run in the family. He was more like Kit than Olaf had thought, so maybe he wasn’t so bad._

_“Oh, don’t look sour,” Olaf said with a hiccup. “It was a celebration! For us!” Olaf declared grabbing her ring hand and trying to pull her into a dance but he was too drunk for his legs to work right. He just ended up tangling them together. Kit ducked under his arm and held him up. Olaf slipped away to lean at the bar and set his glass down on it._

_“You and Jacques seem to be getting along better now. That is quite literally the_ only _reason I’m burying this for you two.”_

_“Of course! We’re going to be brother-in-laws soon!” Olaf declared. He smiled victoriously as his declaration somehow got Kit to smile. Just a bit! Enough! He knew she couldn’t stay mad at them! She shook her head at him, clinging stubbornly to being displeased as she stopped in front of him._

_“It was a_ bender _, love,” Olaf laughed, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pressing a sloppy kiss to her lips. “Men do that.”_

_She rolled her eyes and pushed him off her. Olaf decided it was a game to grab her again. He mostly failed but he did try to pick her up but he stumbled over his feet instead. He managed to get his arms around her but it turned out she was really just holding him up._

_“I have_ other _words for it.”_

_Olaf just grinned at his fiance before he chortled. “I’m sure you’ll tell me_ all _of them.”_

_“Perhaps when you can retain a word I’m saying. Now can I please get you two bumbling dullards home?”_

_“Are you talking dirty to me love?” Olaf laughed again, wrapping his arm around her waist mostly to steady himself as they got nearer to the doors._

_She sighed so heavily that it made Olaf snicker. “When you drink, Olaf_ , I swear.”

Olaf downed the rest of the bottle, to get past it. Why did he pick this place anyways? He knew why, it was all part of the plan, but torturing the Fire-Fighters was just so hard sometimes! Olaf tuned out the little memories, getting out of his seat to make a show on the piano to distract himself. Enough wine and he’d forget everything! 

Fate was such a cruel wench, though, not only did it not let Olaf forget about it, it threw her headlong into haunting him all night. The other two bottles of wine split between the group did not get him drunk enough. So he was forced to stumble up the stairs to the cots without being wasted enough to drop off quickly.

It left Olaf to stare at the dark ceiling, thinking of her. All Olaf had to do was close his eyes and he could perfectly picture her, even after so many years. Picture her he did; and despite whatever else he’d lost memories of over many years of drinking, Olaf could still hear the way she said his name when he let himself. Unfortunately as the night drug on and sleep evaded him, Olaf was still left wondering if he’d be able to keep his promise and be with her again. 

He should have told her it was Beatrice who threw the dart. Then Kit would have understood, not been so cold and struggled to keep him at a distance. Olaf reminded himself that at least she _struggled_ with it, too, out on that balcony. Which just meant she wasn’t over him, of course. Hell knew _he_ struggled, she held him back so much without even being around. Olaf just couldn’t tell her then because if he had Kit would have stopped him from killing Beatrice. Not that it _worked_. It just made Olaf wish he’d told Kit more, then maybe he could have seen her put aside her anger with him. 

Oh. Why did he have to still think about her? He didn’t want to anymore. It would be so much easier if he could just forget all of it, all of them, and never be bothered again. So much easier to do what he had to do. Do what he wanted to.

Olaf turned over to flop onto his stomach, his long arms hanging off the short cot to press against the floor. He took out his knife to spin it on the uneven wooden planks. She must have, though, right? Stopped being angry. He’d gone after Beatrice, so she’d realize why. Her brother and Olaf’s old ‘friend’ would have to explain themselves to her. Once that happened, and they told Kit the truth, then she’d finally see what he’d been saying. None of it was between _them_ anymore, their families hadn’t killed each other… so they could go back, somehow.

Except that as much as he still couldn’t forget Kit, Olaf also couldn’t go back to the way he used to be. He hated that past path, he hated all of them save for her. He hated the things she still clung to even if he couldn’t find it in himself to hate her. It wasn’t her fault, Kit honestly hadn’t meant it, but she’d still delivered the darts that ended his father’s life. _Still_ Kit stayed stubborn to their abysmal codes and arrogant mockery of the truth. She said she had lost just as much that night but Olaf found that hard to believe.

Olaf blamed Lemony. It wasn’t that she couldn’t look away from V.F.D. to come with him, she just wasn’t the woman who would turn from her family. He had loved that, so how could he hate her for it? Besides…. after all he’d _done_ , what else could Olaf do but keep going forward? Kit certainly wasn’t going to leave that life, so there was nowhere, no future, for them to _really_ go to.

It didn’t mean they couldn’t be together again, though. Olaf could just keep thinking it. It helped sometimes, other times it just tormented him. Tonight it helped and he turned back over on his back to stare up at the dark ceiling. Tonight he could keep imagining what she would have said once she realized the truth that night. Maybe that she had said, unknown to Olaf. It had been years, maybe she was even realizing what their organization was _really_ about. 

Maybe he could dream about what that would be like instead of his lonelier reality.


	2. Olaf

* * *

"There’s quite a few of us here,” Jacques muttered as he stepped out of the driver’s side of the taxi. Kit scanned the parking lot too, as she stepped out of the passenger’s side. Her twin was right, there were far too many for it to be usual. At least seven cars, and she was sure at least a few of them must have come together. Jacques had called to pick her up after all and of course the couples. Kit was glad she had siblings.

“Peculiar,” Kit frowned. “Especially since I received a telegram instead of the weekly code.”

“As did I,” Jacques said, meeting her on the other side of the car so they could walk together. Both Snicket’s took in the parking lot of the abandoned movie theater with a little more care. “It must have been a sudden event.”

“Or time sensitive,” Kit pointed out. 

“Hm,” Jacques agreed.

This urgent convening deeply unsettled Kit. She could see from the heavy look in Jacques eyes that it was having the same effect on her twin. It felt distantly familiar. They’d given up formal headquarters in the last five years, seeing as they were always burned down or exposed, and simply resulted in a greater headache. They hadn’t had a large get together of Volunteers since that last Masquerade Ball, where they were infiltrated and one of their own almost murdered. Since then, since changing the way they operated, slowly things had become more peaceful and the fires burned low once more.

One felt a sense of loss, at least Kit did, but the Volunteers had spread out from one another and thrived. It wasn’t the grandeur of the organization Kit had grown up in, but it was still serving its noble purpose. Besides, there would always be safe places for them to gather, to sit in the quiet and away from the chaos of the world. Simply in smaller, more discreet ways. 

Kit wasn’t sure when the last time was she’d been in a room with more than two or three fellow Volunteers. It felt strange for the twins to walk in and pass through warm and familiar faces. Jacques seemed happier as they greeted friends, Kit felt loss. For as happy as seeing so many of them together made her, there were countless seats empty. Friends and comrades who were either dead or had departed from their ranks in the worst sorts of ways. Kit’s late twenties had been filled with pain, a great loss of friends and family, and a complete upheaval of their organization and all the lives of the Volunteers. It didn’t help to dwell on it, but Kit had found she’d lost the ability to put such things aside the older she got.

Still, it _was_ good to see those still here. A smile touched her face, as Beatrice stood up to kiss her cheek.

“It’s lovely to see you Kit, Jacques,” Beatrice spoke up and leaned over to kiss Jacques’ cheek as well. He gave her a hug. Kit smiled, although she thought it strange for Bertrand to be sitting next to her. Violet was still so young, usually it was one or the other of the parents. It grew her worry about what they had been gathered here to find. It also made her miss Lemony, and hope he was doing alright on the lam. Bertrand greeted them next and Kit was about to ask about the baby when the screen in front of them flickered to life.

“We’ll catch up later, perhaps,” Kit said and she moved three rows down to where Jacques had settled next to J.

“Let’s extend apologies first for the hours.” 

It was M that spoke, apparently he called for this meeting. Judging by the attire better suited for a warmer climate Kit would guess that Monty had only arrived back in the country some short time ago. 

“As a few of you know, G and I have been working together recently. We were out of the country on an unrelated expedition when we found something curious.”

Kit watched along as the screen flickered to a short Sebald skit on the proper retrieval of snake venom. All the friends around her reached for their spyglasses but M held up his hand.

“The encoded message within was meant for only one member,” M went on to explain the clever ruse that they’d used to try and catch the attention of one of their members who had been missing since their home was burned down. Kit held her breath. It was R. 

“We had hoped that if the R was anywhere in South America she’d find our little skit and get in contact with us.”

“And?” Beatrice called out from the audience, someone else asked what happened. Kit couldn’t blame them for their impatience. She’d long held out hope that her childhood friend had survived the fire that had killed her mother. In R’s case, Kit couldn’t help but hold out hope for her good friend. 

When Beatrice ended her and Lemony’s engagement, her brother had given Kit the ring. It had belonged to R, though, and Kit had felt it didn’t belong to her so she gave it to Bertrand. It should stay with Beatrice. Still, it had seemed to her a confirmation her old friend was dead. That was until Lemony sent her a letter in regards to the situation and Kit knew how well her brother coded. He was very vague and if he didn’t believe R was alive and well, there would be no need for vagueness. So Kit had her own hopes the Duchess was alive. 

“Unfortunately she did not, but we found someone else came to see it!”

Kit felt she was on the edge of her seat.

“Someone we know?”

“An associate?”

“Please, please,” Monty called, signalling for a photo of someone in a long beige coat to show on screen. It was standard issue, although hardly used. A member of them? Or perhaps a fire-starter? It was hard to make out their face but it was a stocky man with a rather large mustache. 

“G was able to follow the man, and we found he was hiding all _sorts_ of information. He was trying to track R as well.”

“Did he talk?”

“He got away, sadly, but in his haste he left behind many clues,” M provided them in a series of photos and Kit couldn’t believe their luck. That reference to a Jeep… it _could_ be R. 

“But who else is searching for her?” Kit asked over the small conversations springing up. That was perhaps the most disturbing question.

“Right you are to ask K,” M said and signaled for the screen to be changed. “I am afraid it is our enemies. We found footage that had been stolen many years ago.”

“Of what?” Jacques asked from beside her.

“Of an interrogation G himself was part of, years ago when the Duchess’ home first burned down. The footage was taken when the prisoner escaped.”

They all sat silently waiting for the reel to start. Kit could feel a pit forming in her stomach before the film even flickered to life. She’d always suspected who was behind that fire. Someone very angry with R for calling for a lack of action to a series of dire events.

The screen flickered to life, Gustav stepped into view, he was in a dusty sort of place that Kit didn’t recognize. It seemed to have a lot of machinery set around it and she wondered if it wasn’t in Paltryville. Much to her chagrin, she recognized the soundly sleeping figure handcuffed to a metal beam far better than his surroundings. Kit schooled her features, watching as on screen G approached the man and gave him a nudge with his boot.

“Uuuh,” He moaned sleepily. Gustav nudged him again, prompting Olaf to blink awake. He groaned, sitting up from where he’d slumped against the beam, rubbing at his head. “What do you want?”

Kit’s breathing quickened and she made herself not frown at the large screen. He crossed her mind often enough, despite the good news of not _having_ news of him in quite a few fireless years. It was just… different hearing his actual voice and not simply the memory of it.

On screen, back in time, G didn’t have time to respond. Instead Olaf had looked up at him and made a face as if he’d stepped in something. “ _Oh._ It's you lot, I'm going back to bed!”

“You’ll have plenty of time to sleep in prison!” G said emblazingly. She didn’t blame him, whenever this was set, she was sure Olaf had been doing plenty of dastardly things. He’d been the root of more than one sleepless night for many of the dedicated Volunteers. Least of all Kit and her family.

“Is that so?” Olaf asked loftily, stretching his back lazily. Kit watched intently.

“But first, what have you done with R?!”

“Wha?” Olaf tried to act astounded, failing terribly. Of course he kept going with it. “You mean the Very Finished Duchess is missing!” Suddenly a grin popped on his face. “What a shame. Don’t worry, I’m sure such a _noble_ and _literate_ sort as yourself will find her.” 

Olaf laughed callously.

“You Villain, talk!” Gustave shouted, grabbing Olaf by his shirt only to pin him back against the beam. Olaf hit his head.

“And they say _I’m_ roguish!”

That wasn’t what that meant. Kit scowled at herself for the familiarity of her thoughts. She also couldn’t make herself look away.

“You talk or I’ll..”

“Oh don’t get your spine in a twist!” Olaf griped, shaking Gustav’s hands off. “She _escaped_ the fire, but I have no idea where she went. Now let me out.”

That was Olaf alright, Kit mused bitterly. Everything was a game during those terrible times. Everything was a show.

“Absolutely not.”

“Maybe she just realized how _boring_ you all are,” Olaf huffed.

“So you admit you set it?”

“ _Prove._ It.” Olaf spoke challengingly, his small smirk declaring he knew they had nothing. They must not have otherwise G might have had something to say. The troubling thing was that Kit saw the sudden recognition in Olaf’s face. Like he’d seen a bowl of raspberries sitting out for him at breakfast. Kit frowned. Whatever happened next likely wasn’t pleasant for Gustav.

“What good are _your_ friends to you now?” Olaf said with that slow, deeply satisfied smirk. Damn, she knew it so well. The one that said he knew he was about to win. His blue eyes flickered over G’s shoulder. 

There was a swift striking sound off camera which resulted in Gustav falling partially in view. Kit was glad this had happened years ago and she knew G was safe. Olaf smiled honestly at whoever it was. Kit stared fixated at his smile. He was happy to see whoever it was, almost appreciative but it was well masked. Was that the _‘They’_ Kit used too often to make herself feel better when she thought of Olaf too softly? 

The camera had been knocked over in whatever struggle. All they could see was two feet, but as the person stepped up the corner of a tattoo familiar to all here was peeking out from the bottom of their trousers. 

A few clicks and a warm thanks from Olaf was all they could hear. Who was it? The handcuffs dropped onto the floor in view signalling the escape of her former love. A nearly indistinguishable male voice, in a rather low baritone, ordered Olaf to get the footage. It shut off a moment later.

Kit let out a breath she hadn’t realized had been pent up in her chest. Everyone was silent for a moment and Kit concentrated on a wrinkle in her glove to calm herself down. This was still a meeting, it had a purpose in the present, about R. What had he done now? This wasn’t really news to her at least. It wouldn’t turn into a fresh wound she’d have to tend to. It was all in the past.

“Whose feet were they?” B called.

“We’re still looking into it,” M frowned.

“I see, drat.”

“Now we’re hoping that someone might recognize the voice?” M said, looking out at the rest of them as he sat on the edge of a row of seats in front of the them. No one could say who it might be, and Kit could see M deflate a little. So did she. Her question was why call this bunch of Volunteers together tonight? It felt oddly specific. Kit looked around the room again and she saw one common feature between them all… Olaf.

“You think he was telling the truth? That she escaped?” J asked in a riled voice.

“Who can say,” Jacques sighed from beside her.

“We know two things,” M said, linking his hands together on his knee. “We know someone is looking for R on the other side, which means they think she’s alive. We also know that we never found her remains. Now it’s simply redoubling our efforts. G is presently scouring the information left behind for some sort of clue. Each of us here are going to need to take a piece of it and dig around. G will be in touch with us shortly, I believe,” M said, checking his watch and nodding.

Kit and the other Volunteers talked over the facts and theories and Gustav’s call came through just in time. They had all agreed to go to the movies in two weeks time for a special film that would help them find what they needed to. They all began to file out, alphabetically, so Kit was surprised when Monty pulled her aside just as she and her twin were going to leave.

“I’ll catch up,” She told Jacques and he nodded. She gave M a questioning look.

“I, well,” M looked almost embarrassed and that wasn’t a normal look on him. Kit frowned slightly. “I wouldn’t ask if… if it wasn’t R. I’m sure it’s not something you can help with anymore, but, would you take the film home? Try to perhaps gain some insight?” 

“I’m not…” Kit protested, a little surprised. In all the time, all the loss at his hands, no one had ever asked her to figure Olaf’s scheme out better than any of the rest of them. It wasn’t very polite, and Kit didn’t like the insinuation that she could figure out anything in his wicked plots.

“I, I know it's inappropriate, but you heard G, we have no leads and they’re after her. I know R was a good friend of the Snickets,” M said making a face. Kit sighed and looked away from him. “Kit, please…”

“I don’t know anything you don't,” She said firmly.

“I know, K, I know,” M assured her. Kit sighed again but despite her discomfort she took the tape. He thanked her a little awkwardly and Kit shook her head before tucking the film roll into her jacket. When Jacques asked what he’d needed she said it was nothing. She didn’t want Jacques to get upset about it.

It was like she’d told M, though, she wasn’t lying, Kit played it at home and saw nothing. Except how pleased Olaf was that someone came to save him. Apparently he found somewhere to fit in. Kit didn’t know how Olaf thought after that night, and he wasn’t dumb enough to give anything up. Sometimes she wished she’d almost married an idiot so his schemes weren’t so effective at destroying them. 

Kit did give it an honest try, watching it three times before falling asleep. All it did was make her feel awful.

_Kit’s finger traced along the diagrams, soaking up as much as she could. She needed to get this right and she wanted to get it right the first try this time. It wasn’t as complex afterall. She had half heard the door and dismissed it, still trying to get the last minute of studying in. Her lack of attention was rewarded with a very cold kiss being pressed to her bare shoulder. Her body shivered unpleasantly._

_“You’re freezing!” Kit cried, jumping just a bit._

_“Mhmhm,” Olaf chuckled deviously, leaning away again. “At least I swiped off the icicles.”_

_Kit turned with a reproachful look but did so rather poorly. He grinned down at her before she turned back quickly to her book. Olaf slipped next to her on the piano bench to peer down at the book as well._

_“Hey! You stole this from my tower!” Olaf teased._

_“Your_ mother’s _tower,” Kit corrected, then added cheekily. “And she gave me permission.”_

_“You two have to stop turning against me,” Olaf pretended to huff but he was looking too excited to pass it off. Kit pressed her smile down and flipped the last diagram over. Little to the left, back with right, back with left, turn with left towards the right. Right, she had it from there._

_“Okay, I’m ready,” Kit said, setting the book off her lap and onto the desk. Olaf set down his jacket from outside and picked the book up himself. Kit reached down to put her heels on as Olaf ran a finger along the text on the previous page. Kit glanced up at him, smiling secretly. She didn’t care what he said, he looked good behind a book._

_Olaf cleared his throat and tossed the book onto the piano cover to wind the Gramophone._

_“We’re in 4/4,” He said aptly. Kit couldn’t help her excitable grin as he directed her to one side of the ballroom. Oh he was going to be surprised, she’d done so terribly the very first time he tried to show her the waltz. Kit had read two books on the subject since and enlisted Beatrice to help her get it._

‘Olaf doesn’t like practicing with many people,’ _Beatrice had said with an insinuating wink. Kit stood, with a small amount of excited nerves in her stomach in the middle of the open floor. Olaf turned to her with that eager smile again._

_Kit had never seen Olaf get as zealous as when he wanted to try out a new dance he was learning with her. It was like seeing herself with a new book and it had been captivating to explore what he was so enthusiastic about. Kit took it as a rather_ _ingenuous thing for him and she had been just a little flattered that he insisted she should help him again._

_“Alright, now,” Olaf said, stepping up to her. Kit reached up to touch his face, giving him her full attention. He smiled and turned to kiss her palm before taking her left hand in his right (check), stretching their arms out (check). Kit moved her right hand to set near his upper right arm (final check)._

_“Well, well, well,” He praised, smirking. “That’s it.” Olaf settled his hand behind her shoulder blade and Kit just beamed up at him._

_“And now we stand like this.” He moved so he was a little to her right. She straightened her upper body like she’d read, although Olaf wasn’t doing it so she wasn’t sure if she happened to be correct. She simply mimicked him instead. “Now step back, yes, with that foot,” He directed and she recited the lines of text internally. Back with right, back with left, turn with left towards the right._

_It took a moment but they started stepping mostly in sync and Kit felt flushed with success. Olaf pivoted and turned to face the opposite wall, Kit turned her left foot diagonally towards the center as she’d seen in the diagram. Olaf moved effortlessly to her side and they spun around quite well! Kit moved out of time two steps, before focusing and they fell back in rhythm repeating it as the music hit a higher step and Olaf led them quicker._

_“You know,” She laughed. “I forgot what this one is called!”_

_“The midnight saunter,” Olaf told her, smiling this… very slow, satisfied smirk. Kit hadn’t seen the look on his face often and she enjoyed that it was them prompting it._

_Olaf rocked them forward and then Kit focused on lifting her foot over the other properly. When they started the last turn and Kit leaned her weight onto Olaf’s arm for the turn, he changed the rules. Grip sliding down to her back instead, he tilted her backwards and Kit felt her head spin for a moment when he turned her still lowered. Her honey toned hair tumbled down after her._

_“I’m pretty sure there’s not a dip in this.” Kit called, hiding her laugh._

_“No, there’s not,” Olaf chuckled, tugging her back up flush with his chest. Kit smiled brightly up at him, breathing unevenly. She forgot all about the pacing when he let go of her h /and in favor of wrapping his other arm around her waist too. It left her hands free to trace down his back. Olaf kissed her with the same eagerness he brought to their dancing and Kit sighed into him as he pulled her back against the settee._

Kit awoke flushed, feeling his lingering touches pulled out of her subconscious. When she fully roused from the dream, and the flushing faded, it left Kit feeling crushingly alone on her couch. She did her best to get up and clear her head with a bit of cold water and a quick pot of tea. Kit slipped back on her couch with her bitter beverage, watching the blank clicking on her wall where the film had reached the end of the reel.

She fought with herself for a few minutes before the silent night won out and Kit reached out to pull the tape back. She took another sip of tea, frowning because she shouldn’t but couldn’t stop her hands. Kit had noticed _one_ thing on the tape, even if she’d tried to ignore it herself. 

She let the film run the first minute before stopping the reel. She pulled it back and did it again, closing her eyes to listen to his voice. Damn, why did it have to sooth her yearning so much more than the tea was? Kit set her tea down and pulled the film back, watching again and again with a fair amount of shame. Poor M… poor R…. the only thing she’d noticed was how much he seemed like himself in that first minute waking up. Kit watched again.

“Uuuh,” He moaned sleepily. The foot nudged him again, prompting Olaf to blink awake. He groaned, sitting up from where he’d slumped against the beam, rubbing at his head. “What do you want?”

“You,” She sighed to his likeness, making a promise to herself that the nasty little truth would never leave this room. She shouldn’t want someone so wicked, so easily dastardly, but she simply longed for the old Olaf. Kit knew it was impossible to go back in time, but she still liked seeing that part of the man she loved still lived inside somewhere. She closed her eyes, telling herself she missed their relationship and not him. 

Sitting alone with herself in the dark, Kit knew that wasn’t true. 

_‘You’ll see, love.’_

She could hear his whisper, see that warm, lively smile again. Just for tonight she’d let herself hope he was right. Just tonight she wished feverishly he was sitting here next to her, reminding her of everything that had been good in both of them. 

Her word was quieter now and that was what she aimed for it to be. Kit needed quiet, after so many years of absolute chaos. His doing… but sometimes she just wished he was here, not letting go. Maybe if it was him here reminding her, it wouldn’t hurt so damn much. At times she’d go what seemed like forever without him crossing her mind and then others… his memory gripped her so tight she could hardly breath. If only she could figure out why and be able to get rid of it. 

Tonight, though, she’d admit to herself that she’d be horrified if she ever did lose it completely. She reached and rolled the tape again. Kit could go back to being strong tomorrow morning.


	3. If I See You Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far I’ve stuck to the books where there’s any difference between it and the tv show. Of course I’ve used the added content in the show, but this is the first divergence from that.
> 
> I feel like the best place to put this is between the second and third book. Olaf is awfully focused on romance coming into Wide Window and it's a skip where we don’t know how he found the Bauldaires except that he came to Madame Lulu to find out (book wise). In the TV show it's offered as a rotating position, and that Kit’s taken part. In the books both Lulu and Kit are mentioned as having looked at every scrap of paper they see to find the lost pages of the Snicket file, too. So I’m going to play the middle ground. 
> 
> It’s about a year arguably before The End, although it's an endless debate if that matters! ;)

* * *

Kit swung the cabinet open, relieved to be able to take the turban off and restore it to its proper place. It was too small and had given her a terrible headache after a long day 

She starred in the mirror at the dark haired, strange eyed woman she was currently imitating. Kit had only been here for a short time but it felt so much longer. V.F.D. believed Lulu had information in her library here. So, while the real Madame Lulu was occupied, it was Kit’s job to find it. If _it_ were here. Dewey was pretty sure it had come through, and despite Kit not being sure exactly what was going on between them, she knew she trusted him as a sub sub-librarian. She managed to _hope_ he was right, too. The Snicket File had evaded her all these years and Kit had to have it. Once she did Kit could finally find a way of proving her brother’s innocence. 

She paused for a moment, staring at her disguise conflicted once again as she had been for quite some time now. She liked Dewey. They’d been good friends for many years now, but they had moved in a newer direction. Kit just wasn’t sure why she wasn’t more thrilled to move forward. Something kept making her pause, hesitate, and that wasn’t something Kit Snicket did. Was she just cautious now after all she’d been through and lost?

It was her, not Dewey, she knew that.

  
He was exactly what she needed her life to be. Quiet, kind, dedicated, everything Kit admired in her fellow Volunteers. He’d been through just as much, a lot of the same things as she had, and he understood her. Dewey took his time to understand things in a way most people didn’t. She loved how sweet he was, how intelligent. He gave her a run for her money that was for sure. Never an easy feat, and he did it so subtly, so genuinely. Dewey was quite the gentleman. Kit wanted that.

So why this hesitation? Kit realized, as she stared at her strange looking eyes and the wig that it wasn’t a hesitation towards Dewey, it was a hesitation within herself. Perhaps because it felt like a departure from this. From the field and from the life she’d always wanted to hang onto despite how it had disappeared from under her feet. Everyone else got over their loss and settled down. In trying to save their brother, Jacques and Kit had never left it. Perhaps neither of them _wanted_ to settle down, either. It wasn’t in their nature. 

Secretly, Kit still yearned for her life back from before the Schism. It had been everything Kit had wanted, she’d had it. Excitement, adventure, purpose, all her loved ones and friends around her. Kit had never been alone. She was able to do real good, make real changes in the world, then. She’d put out fires instead of watching the embers of burnt lives. These days it was always too late, always too much wickedness to destroy, more preservation than true change. Kit honestly wasn’t sure how Jacques kept up his enthusiasm, his hopefulness towards it all. 

The world just seemed darker to Kit. There had been so much loss and so much change. She was tired, she was sadder, now, and the grand hopes she’d had back then had died away. Want didn’t matter. That life couldn’t ever come back. Why hesitate? What was so wrong with something stable for once? Something quiet? They fought for so long to keep the world quiet, so why was she so resistant to having that herself? Maybe if she accepted that, Kit could find herself a way back from the moral ambiguity this world now provided her, and that she had to provide in return.

She frowned at her despairing thoughts, brushing them away. Kit may have to deal with a changing pace that had slowly but surely crept up around her soon, but it didn’t have to be now. For now she could be on the most important mission of her life! She could be so close to finally getting evidence of her brother’s innocence. The Snicket File could be at hand. If she could find Lemony peace, maybe Kit would be able to accept herself having it as well. Maybe that was what truly left her still running, how could she settle down if Lemony was still on the run for things that hadn’t been only his doing? Kit owed her brother more than that and she’d get it for him if it took her last breath to do it.

Kit gave the large tent a determined look. She’d get that Snicket File but if it was here, it was hidden well. The time invested here didn’t seem to be enough. Kit was having a hard time finding time to look! This woman ran an incredible amount of things for a dying carnival. Mostly, Kit felt bad for the ‘freaks’ that performed here without any real pay and without any real caring. She disliked how they looked at her when she was disguised, and Kit wished she could do more than tell them they deserved better. Maybe she could convince them into a proper education, an education could change everything.

No matter, now that the carnival was closed for tonight, Kit would have the evening to study vigorously throughout this tent. She’d find the file if it was here. She would have already if so many people hadn’t come for their fortune. It had taken Kit that long to figure out the mechanics of the stage work for Madame Lulu’s ‘spirits’. Kit hated that duty the most, the pretend predictions and talking in this grating foreign accent. It was a lot of blathering on and that wasn’t Kit’s forte. She liked being precise and exact.

It was all lies, guesses, and telling people what they wanted to hear. Ridiculous, who would possibly be _desperate_ enough to come to a fortune teller for answers?

“Hellloooo?”

Kit was halfway through undoing her wig when a voice bellowed from the front of the tent.

A…. voice….

Kit’s head slowly pulled its way up, fighting the fact that it felt weighed down by disbelief. It felt like she was moving through water. Her breath left her to the very last bit of air and Kit found gaining more was suddenly impossible. The undeniable voice continued to rant on from the entrance of the tent. 

“I'm looking for some _mystical_ answers… no, no, a very fiery undeniable query! _Hah!_ ” The voice was rougher, scratchier, a little higher, but… there was no denying that she knew that voice deep into her skin.

It was Olaf, and no part of her doubted it.

Kit remembered to breathe in sharply when her chest started burning. She reached up to pull her wig back on. Despite so much training and experience in tricky situations she almost felt panicked. No training could prepare her for seeing _him_ again. How was Olaf here, after so long of never running into each other? What did she do? 

Think. Assess. What did she have? A disguise that wouldn’t hold up under his inspection. An accent every member likely knew. Herself, unnerved. Olaf sounded drunk. 

“Oooh Madame Lulu wh- ow! What the hell!?”

Very drunk.

“Madame Lulu will be right there, please!” She ground her voice into the strange accent as she called out. She’d tweak it a little. Very drunk she could work with, even if the rest wasn’t enough.

Her wrong colored eyes scoured the cabinet and she quickly grabbed a shawl. Kit tore it and fashioned into a veil to hide her face. The disguise itself was very good, but she wasn’t taking chances. Olaf was a master with disguises, an expert _in_ them was an expert in _spotting_ them. She couldn’t expose this place, _especially_ if the Snicket File was actually here. Did Olaf get wind of that too? Was that what he was here for? 

Well, he’d find he’d have trouble coming through Kit for it!

Kit tucked the veil back safely with a few bobby pins and cleared her throat quietly so she could get her voice low enough for the accent. Alright, well all she could do was give it her best and hope he was too drunk to notice anything. She’d send him on his way and hasten her search for the file. She could find time to curse the dumb luck of him stumbling on her on such a short assignment.

“Hello! Welcome to the Caligari Carnival!” She swept into the room, fully in her act and she widened her arms outward.

Olaf was there, alright, wearing shoes that looked ruined with water stains and a shabby outfit with numerous spots and a hole. Kit was stunned there for a moment, her arms spread out simply from surprise. It wasn’t the poor, unkempt apparel that did it. Olaf, he… he looked… so different. His face… his body, all of him. Olaf was _younger_ than Kit, and yet he looked at least five years older now. If not more. His hair was nearly greyed, his face poorly shaven and pale, and he was very thin. His eyes, at the moment, were shined over with too much drink. He stood before her, a stranger in appearance.

“What’s with the scarf?” Olaf asked listlessly, with a cocked eyebrow. Kit lowered her arms, gesturing both hands up towards the space above their heads and then let them flutter down.

“Is veil,” She said, with a scowl in her voice. “Madame Lulu need block out zis realm please.”

“Ah,” He made a grunting noise and shrugged. 

Kit was thrown off, still. All his elegance and intelligence was washed out under the booze. He managed to make his way around the front entrance and sitting area, almost in a clumsy manner. He ran a hand along the back of the lounge as he approached. “So what does it take for a little truth seeking, _Lulu_ , was it?” He leered.

Kit narrowed her eyes at the _dim_ and crude remark. She reminded herself that she was supposed to be grateful he was too drunk to focus on anything. Much less the fact someone who he used to know _very_ well was standing across a small room from him. It was feeling smaller by the second. 

“I hope all the rumors are true,” He continued. Kit pressed back her frown. It was hard to stay quiet. She’d once told Jacques that the only thing she couldn’t stand about Olaf was what a lousy drunk he was. That certainly hadn’t changed. 

Actually, he seemed _worse_. Worse than that time she had to drag him and her twin home. She let it go because she had thought it was sweet. As soon as Olaf proposed, Jacques doubled his efforts of getting to know and befriending Olaf. They had grown much closer in the time to follow but Kit pestered Jacques not to make it too much drinking. For these reasons.

She swept her arm along the curtain, gesturing for him to come forward as she tried to focus only on what she needed to do here. Kit couldn’t afford to lose focus, certainly not for him. _‘Come on, Snicket, you can play him like a fiddle.’_ She could, she had to, to protect whatever secrets were here. For her younger brother’s sake.

“What brings _interesting_ traveler to Madame Lulu?” 

Olaf twitched a smile but squashed it and raised his eyebrow. He slipped a little flyer from his sleeve with a twist of his wrist. The Carnival’s name was on it along with the slogan, ‘What you want to hear, Guaranteed!’.

“You see, I have quite a few things I _want_ to hear,” Olaf said with an attempt at seeming menacing. Kit restrained herself from rolling her eyes. He’d have to be able to _walk_ completely straight to be menacing. He had moved around the lounge finally and she watched warily as he moved to stand near her.

Kit forced a little, cackly giggle.

“Oh, yes, please! You come to right place! Madame Lulu know to talk to spirits an spirits know _all_ zings.” Kit said, sweeping a hand over the room. He followed the motion, a bit vacantly before looking back to her face skeptically. 

“Spirits? _Really_ ,” He snorted unbelieving. Olaf looked around the tent, from the heavy curtains to the black table in the middle set back with the crystal ball. Olaf set his hands on his hips, eyeing her up and down suspiciously. Kit felt twitchy and went for the stupid little light show with the fading lights. He looked about as unbelieving as Kit had upon arriving herself. Well at least he hadn’t turned into a complete idiot. Perhaps it was the sign that had lured him here, or the Snicket file and not a magic trick. Which was worse?

Kit circled him, so he couldn’t get a proper look at her, muttering about a spirit. 

She just needed to convince him. It couldn’t be too hard when he smelled so terribly of cheap wine and cologne. The problem was she hadn’t heard anything from anyone about Olaf in quite some time. She’d spent the last few years in and out of the sub library and other important work. To her knowledge Olaf hadn’t been up to his old level of treachery in some time. There had been suspicion he’d had something to do with the Baudelaire fire but there was nothing factual there. It was simply conjecture, they all knew how many times he tried to go after Beatrice. Nothing solid, so what did she say that would trick him?

“You come in search of answers… yes, revenge is not so sweet and you long for something… hmmm, something you deserve. ”

“That’s nice,” Olaf drew out, crossing his arms tightly. Kit watched the motion, noting the guarded motion. He wasn’t nervous, just suspicious, it was different. “But that’s hardly proof, _Lulu_. I find proof usually helps everything go _smoothly_.” He threatened.

Kit had to hold her tongue, as a witty retort came to the tip of it. She couldn’t start arguing with him, Olaf would know just who was talking then. Maybe. It wasn’t worth risking it of course. Instead she smiled sickly sweet, and spread her hands.

“Tell me something only a _real_ fortune teller would know,” Olaf insisted. Well, he was still entertaining this idea, _somehow_. So maybe he didn’t necessarily know about the file. 

Kit looked up at him through the veil, thinking before she ducked her head down to mess with the button on one of the many rings on her fingers. She got it and the lights began to dim again. She closed her eyes and made a show out of breathing overly deep. Really, this was the worst possible disguise he could have found her in. Although, perhaps perfect. Madame Lulu was nothing like Kit Snicket.

She strained for something to say, of course she probably knew more small details to trick him with than most people would. Kit liked to think that, anyways. Then again, he’d know that _Kit_ knew those things and they were too personal. What could she… oh. Perfect. He would have no idea she knew, because **_just_ **like Olaf, he’d never trusted her with it. She hovered a hand over his arm and then down to his pocket before waving it about some more, feeling ridiculous but focusing more on getting her voice to change properly.

“ Yes…I see somezing hidden, it is small and rectangle, yes… a key…” Kit waved her hand above again, clicking the button on her ring for the ‘spirit.’

“Ah! Ze spirit tells me of book, a small book zat dictates what is between you and your own kind.” 

She glanced at him and saw Olaf’s face had fallen a little slack, vulnerable. Kit went on despite the discomfort his expression brought her. It was wrong to use this against him, but she had no other choice. 

“All ze words and messages zat keep you from fitting just right.”

“How could you know that…” He gasped.

Kit watched as his eyes grew large with disbelief and his arms undid themselves as she continued onward.

“Yes! Zey tell me you try _so_ hard, oh traveler, to be just right, hiding ze zings you did not know, trying to define every difference but it never did _work_ ,” She said, spreading her fingers and taking a gasping breath. Her throat was burning from the gravely tone she had to use. Kit wasn’t sure it was going well until she noted he’d started to dig at his thumbnail nervously. This had actually worked? 

  
She settled her gaze on him. “Now you come to Madame Lulu looking for justice! For peace that so many _fires_ cannot spread to you!”

  
Olaf glanced away to collect himself and then back at her. There was a moment of silence passed between them before he let out a rattled breath and straightened.

“I stand corrected, Madame Lulu,” Olaf said, leaning forward and blinking at her. Honestly Kit was surprised he wasn’t in a drunken stupor with how slow he seemed to be reacting to everything. Kit thought a little sadly that maybe this was just him, now. 

“I am Count Olaf!” He boasted, and waved a hand, but again, he was incapacitated and it more or less flopped about. She supposed it was proper that he took up his father’s title. He just had never seemed to care so much, and now he put such an emphasis on the word. “And I can see your considerable skill is quite incredible.”

Kit wondered if he meant that to be smooth. Maybe if he hadn’t said the same thing twice in one sentence. She summoned a smile despite herself and tilted her head. She had to work this to figure out why he was here.

“Tell Madame Lulu, please, what is it you desire, _Count Olaf_?”

He managed to grin in an odd, crooked sort of way before leaning forward to stare harder at her. Kit hoped the dim lighting and the veil was enough.

“I want to know **_where_ **my rightful inheritance has run off to!” Olaf belligerently demanded. He slammed a fist into the opposite hand. How incredibly unhelpful. What did that _even_ mean?

“Yes, please!” She shrieked, feeling the need to clear her throat further. “This is big, important question,” She explained, trying not to use her regular vocabulary. She needed to buy herself time to figure out what he wanted. “Requires most wise spirits. For that,” She backed up swiftly and waved a hand to the back. “Ze Crystal Ball!”

“Ahh,” Olaf replied in awe, staring transfixed at the ball behind more curtains and beads. It was in the room with the cabinet and next to that was the back room and she had all her personal things tucked under the bed. So nothing in this room with the set up ball would give her away to him. 

  
Olaf followed her back and she swept around the table, clicking on the timer on the back of his chair. His head swivelled to watch her, his gaze lagging behind.

Kit realized something as she sat across from a man who never seemed able to leave her thoughts completely. Kit could admit she wasn’t _always_ as virtuous as she should be. He had questions did he? Well, fair was fair. There was one in particular that he’d left her behind with. It had haunted Kit since he slipped it out decades ago, never allowing her to just let go. So she’d take advantage of Olaf’s drunken stupor and some ridiculous belief in all this to work a little magic of her own. Perhaps she’d be able to figure out what it was he was looking for and give him a fake answer while she was at it.

Kit set up the cheap tricks and hovered her hands over the ball. She closed her eyes to try and frame the question in a way that could lead him to the conclusion she wanted without acting as if she knew anything. She couldn’t be sure he’d get to it without enough information. It was a tricky line, but she’d walk it. Kit wanted, no, needed to know. If he believed she was really some random gypsy who could contact spirits, _ridiculous_ , then he might slip when his brain was muddled anyways. When else would she ever get this chance again?

“Ze spirits show… hummm…” She grasped the ball, hearing him let out a shuddered breath. He really believed all this nonsense. “I am seeing… someone, somezthing. Two… no, no is it three?”

“Yes, yes, three?” He asked excitedly.

“No,” She deadpanned, lifting her voice again. “No… is two,” She said lowly and she heard him groan. “Someone is telling you of dark story, hm… a secret to end what you hold dear? A secret accident. But who speaks, spirit! Who are zey, please? Something Dutch…? I see… metal, despair, handcuffs! Now victory. Yes, ze spirits are seeing a close call, a rescue? A man. They have your answers, but ze spirit is too... far away. I do not understand…”

“What? What is it?” He insisted.

“Madame Lulu cannot distinguish… perhaps a man...”

“Is it a man with a beard but no hair?” He pressed. Kit felt shocked. “What do you see? Whose with him? He’s not here, is he?” He asked, and Kit peeked an eye open to observe him. Olaf glanced around looking lost, even nervous. Kit had all she could do to keep herself steady. It certainly wasn’t the _happy_ , welcoming look she’d seen on that tape. Changed, huh? Maybe he ought to have considered keeping the friends he’d had. Good, noble people, instead of the villains he ran towards. Now… now it made sense why he did it. Kit _had_ her answer. For now she had to put her thoughts of it away until it was safe. She still had to figure out what Olaf wanted and get him out of here quietly.

“Yes, yes… very long, please, not very handsome,” She added in Lulu’s obnoxious tone. Olaf leaned in again, with a thoughtful, then agreeable frown.

“Ze spirits see he has some hold on it.”

There that solved whatever the inheritance thing was. Kit lowered her head slightly. The Man with a Beard but No Hair. Two mysterious yet villainous members of V.F.D. had always been the Woman with Hair but No Beard and The Man with a Beard but no Hair. Kit hadn’t had to run into them herself, but as a top field agent… she knew plenty of their treachery and influence.

Which meant that who Kit had wondered about for so many years was _them_. Olaf had told her on that balcony that _‘they’_ had told him about Dewey giving her those darts. It was them that threw Olaf down this course, mentored him into that dastardly life that took him so far from her and… well _look_ at him, led him to complete ruin. Perhaps it had been their devious plots all along, and Olaf followed, not as wicked as they all suspected. If it was _them_ , then it seemed all the more realistic.

Kit didn’t know how to process the sudden feelings that came with it, but Olaf didn’t give her time. He’d reached out towards the ball, but ‘Lulu’ spread her hands protectively over it.

“Spirits are very picky, please.”

“Yes, fine,” He said shortly, before continuing in one, excited breath. “What does he have to do with those brats? Where are they going next?”

Brats? What did that have to do with his question? Kit didn’t have enough information. She was going to have to contact someone, if she could manage it with Olaf knowing their ways and being so close by. Or, she just really needed to give herself time to search for the file and disappear by morning.

“That is two questions, _Count Olaf,_ ” Kit crooned, waving her hand over the ball, feeling ridiculous. The lights sprung back to life and she swept up off of the chair so he didn’t have time to see her eye level. 

“Spirits are tired. You see sunset please?” She pointed out at the blue lights striking off the horizon that was peeking through the entrance. Kit deadpanned again. “Spirits go to bed.”

“Wha?” Olaf asked vexed, glaring at the ball and then up at her.

“Once a day ze spirits waken with daylight. You can ask one question of ze crystal ball and zen spirits come in smoke and fire to answer your heart's desire.”

Olaf thought about it for a moment, before grumbling. “Well that’s inconvenient.”

Kit tried to hide the twitch of a smile as he pouted. She easily shook it off and rounded to be behind him, brushing a hand across his shoulders. “Come, come, please,” She insisted and he turned suddenly hesitant to look up at her. “You stay ze night and in the morning, ze spirits come answer important questions again.”

“Well,” He mused and again his mind seemed simply burnt out. “I could use a toast!” He declared, swooping up and nearly knocking the chair over in his clumsiness. Kit backed up just in time or he’d have run right into her. “To getting answers to all my questions!” He declared with a short laugh and a flourish. 

“Yes, yes,” ‘Lulu’ agreed with him, ushering him out of the tent. It was dark at least and she felt safer with the lack of light. Kit kept two steps ahead of him and swept to one of the guest tents.

“I will have freaks bring you wine, _Count Olaf._ We must rest now!”

“Why not celebrate!” He insisted and Kit thought quickly.

“ _Oh so sorry._ I must connect with Spirits, please, or I cannot see important answers, to important questions.”

“Hrmph,” He grumbled and Kit shoved at his shoulders just as lightly as she could and twisted around to put some space between them. “Have good sleep, _Count Olaf!_ " 

He grumbled something but Kit was much quicker at departing to the caravan. She knocked gently, waiting to see who answered. She smiled at Hugo and asked him to do her the favor but come straight back from the tent and not to talk to their guest. He agreed and Kit really needed to try to get a hold of someone. It might simply be better to check for the files first and call in the morning. She was more likely to get an answer and she might have found the file by then.

Walking back Kit had so much to process. She finally knew who ‘they’ were. She knew that missing gap, why it had all happened after decades of not knowing. Years of it never feeling right. She wasn’t as wrong about Olaf as she’d feared, wickedness did start as innocence, as Jacques had tried to assure her. It wasn’t always there underneath him, and… while it didn't change what he did, maybe Olaf just followed down the wicked path instead of being someone who could create it on his own. That difference had always mattered very deeply to Kit.

She’d gotten something else, too. Something unsuspecting. Kit felt stronger about seeing Olaf than she ever had. He wasn’t the man she’d kept alive in her memories. She’d been right. He was going to destroy himself, and while it hurt… it meant it wasn’t the same. He _wasn’t_ the same, and Kit didn’t have to worry about loving him or not anymore. She couldn’t miss it, him, them anymore, if he was so vastly different from the man she’d been ready to marry. Then it was truly all gone and maybe Kit could let herself rest.


	4. You will never be forgotten

* * *

Kit waited patiently, but the line stayed dead. She must be busy. She’d tried her twice, and that was that. Kit frowned and hung up, turning the lamp around and sighing. She ought to have called last night. It had just seemed if she found the file it wouldn’t matter. 

  
Kit reached up to take off her glasses, and swap them out for the contacts for this disguise. Not that they did much for her sight. She didn’t need to read anything else unfortunately. She had gone through every bit of paperwork hidden away in this tent and found nothing relevant. There were so many interesting things to memorize and copy to be sure, but nothing to do with the Snicket File. Now the sun was due to rise momentarily and Olaf would be back waiting for his ridiculous answers. Ones Kit did not have. 

  
She should feel more foreboding about it. The truth was, Kit felt lighter than she had in years thinking of Olaf. It wasn’t a matter of his promises, or their circumstances anymore, he was simply changed by the years. More crude and brusque, a little dim. He’d been acting so villainously for so long, it had apparently altered him. While it made part of Kit despair… another part realized it set her free, too. 

She could handle an Olaf that was no longer the man she’d loved deeply in any recognizable way. In fact, still loving him was almost _easier_ now, because of the facts. She could love them in the past, instead of continuing to yearn for it. If it wasn’t there, she couldn’t have it anyways.

  
This line of thought had kept her calm all morning. Which was exactly why Kit was caught so utterly unprepared when Olaf sauntered into the tent earlier than she’d expected him. His eyes swept to inspect their surroundings closer and he fixed her, no Lulu, with a determined stare. She double checked her veil with a hand before crooning. 

“You are early, please, _Count Olaf!_ ”

“I was just excited to see you Lulu,” Olaf said, but unlike the day before, it wasn’t crude at all. He was wearing that charming smile of his. Practiced and… well, _familiar_. 

“Oh!! Come in, come in,” She said quickly, turning her back to him to walk further into the tent. Kit needed a moment to compose herself. They moved back to the table and she set up the show, watching him from the corner of her eye. He sat gently, all the clumsiness of last night vanished as if she had imagined it. Instead _Olaf_ sat there as if he had all the control and confidence in the world. For the first time, Kit _was_ a bit intimidated. Not by Olaf necessarily, but by her own self. Intimidated by the keen, focused look as he sat across from her, a man determined to get what he wanted. 

Kit swallowed. This was not the man she’d met last night. Rather, someone she knew too well, back again. He looked more his age, despite the greyed hair, now that he was rested and cleaned up. It seemed distinguished when he wasn’t unkempt, Kit thought. Olaf reminded her of his father, suddenly. His clothes were still shaggy but the life had returned to his eyes. With that back, Olaf’s entire appearance returned to something she recognized and Kit found herself actually smiling at him from behind the safety of her veil.

She squashed it. Nothing to smile about being unprepared. She had no answers, and she had no clues to his question. Even if the Snicket File wasn’t here, Kit didn’t want him figuring her out. Absolutely not. He’d burn this carnival the second he knew it was V.F.D. she was sure. Kit took her seat to find his gaze was fixed solely on her, pressing and almost a little eager.

Kit forced an even breath and sat, thinking of how to stall.

“How did you sleep, _Count Olaf?_ ” She asked, with that cackly giggle.

“With anticipation, dear Lulu,” Olaf said with a warm smile. He looked like the cat ready to eat the canary. It struck her determination and brought her much needed focus. Kit was no bird, she would fool him, just like last night. Sober or drunk, Olaf wasn’t going to get the best of her here. Even if she clearly had a preference to which of him he was.

“You will have all your answers shortly!” She assured him, kicking the cold compressor on under the table as she called to the ‘spirits’. Clever or not, he’d come here believing this again today. Why wouldn’t this work? Maybe he was just that gullible. Kit tried very hard to make that negative thought stick more than the way that achingly familiar gaze was fixated on only her. On Lulu, Kit reminded herself.

“We begin in darkness, so ze spirits can find ze light,” She said, gesturing as the lights turned off on their timer and the sun from the top of the tent would do its work. This would go much easier if he couldn’t see her. Kit no longer had a haze of alcohol to work with. Olaf made a noise and she pressed on to her speech.

“Time to call upon ze spirits.”

“I feel a chill!”

“Is your spirits, _Count Olaf,_ ” She purred. “Your important question?”

“Where have my charges slipped off to now?” He asked, his voice filled with determination and something nearly manic. The words of a stranger. What was this all about? She didn’t have much time to figure it out. Kit made a humming noise in the back of her throat, throwing her hands over the crystal ball.

“What do they say?” He urged.

“I need to get closer,” She declared. “Ze spirits are hard to distinguish.”

“Hard to… distinguish,” He repeated after her and she nodded. 

“Lay your hands on ze table, I must have stronger connection, please” She urged. Olaf did so quickly, lying his palms up. The show of dramatics seemed to have distracted him and Kit hovered her hands over his to ‘sense’ the spirits. She really couldn’t stall forever. She’d decided on a vague answer and then quickly dismiss him. 

She hummed longer, squeezing a finger against the largest ring to have the lights flicker on. Before she could go on with her nonsense answer, Olaf changed the scene. He switched their hands and Kit felt his sudden grip on her forearms go straight through her stomach. 

His fingers pressed into the soft flesh of her arm and he yanked her chest over the table so she met him halfway. Kit was stuck peering straight into those brilliant blue eyes. He breathed in deep for a moment and she blinked through the veil. It could hold up against his scrutiny, right? Kit should feel terrified, but instead she was ashamed of the thrill that swept heavily through her.

“Did you know _Lulu_ ,” His voice was just a husky whisper and Kit had all she could do not to shudder so close to him. She didn’t want it to affect her, but it did all the same. Her opinions never seemed to matter when it came to him. “It's very hard to laugh, sing, make noises in a different octave than your own?”

“No! Please, is zis tip from _famous_ actor?”

“Oh yes,” He said, too focused to preen at the compliment. She was in trouble. “It usually doesn’t matter. No one knows what you sound like say, humming.”

“Zis is very _verrrry_ interesting, please, but ze spirits are waiting t-”

Olaf squeezed her arms again and he half stood from his chair so he could lean further into her face. Kit cursed his height advantage, it kept her locked there instead of being able to pull away. As if she _wanted_ to.

“You can’t hide from me!” He declared dramatically. The deep, gravelly growl in his voice and his look pierced right down her center.

“Madame Lulu hides nozing from-” She tried again, so very proud of the steadiness in her voice because she felt light headed. Olaf was so close, and damn her, despite all the years it still affected her exactly the same. They might as well be settled against their old kitchen table for all that time had changed.

His hand ran up her arms, to clutch her shoulders and Olaf brought her face closer to his. All Kit could do was watch him stare intently at her, too worried if she moved, it would be the wrong one. What was the wrong one, though? Suddenly she didn’t know.

“Give it up, _Kit_ ,” He whispered hoarsely. He was so close, Kit could smell that leathery scent of his. It was making her forget everything but some selective memories. When she didn't say anything he rolled his eyes. “I figuratively just said you couldn’t hide from me.”

Literally, but she didn’t correct him.

“ _Olaf_ ,” She started in the fake voice, wincing as she realized she’d left the ‘Count’ off. Damn. He saw the slip and his smile broadened. Oh to hell with it, he wasn’t winning anything. Kit dropped the voice. “Who said I’m _hiding_.” She challenged back evenly. 

A smug smirk pulled up on both sides of his lips, a victorious gleam in his bright eyes. Damn him, Olaf _knew_ that would work, didn’t he? Now what? They both knew the ruse was gone. She needed to not have blown her cover though. She _needed_ that fake distance between them.

The problem was she’d always liked that he could keep up with her, pace for pace. Where yesterday he’d been sloppy, drunk, and practically stupid, today Olaf was sobered up, his old clever self. He reminded her much more of the man she’d known and loved so deeply.

“I knew it.” Olaf smiled. It wasn’t triumphant, or arrogant, or even smug. All of that nonchalant, justified attitude he’d created after he left them all was gone. She didn’t know if it was only because of the situation, or the time between them. Maybe it really was really something he’d left behind or if he was just as excited to have recognized her as he looked. 

He was staring searchingly at her now, asking silent questions Kit couldn’t read anymore. Not knowing was the most dangerous thing for Kit and she did not know much about this man. Oh, that was a lie. Made to protect herself, but still false, because she did, didn’t she? Kit knew this man in front of her still. The one starting to smile before her was achingly familiar and Kit couldn’t stop seeing someone who used to mean everything to her. _Damn._ Olaf made her act so stupid. It was the way he was looking at her, the feeling of his long fingers clutching tighter at her shoulders, Kit couldn’t remember her senses.

She wasn’t sure if it was him or her that suddenly closed a distance twenty years in the making. Kit was pretty sure it was Olaf. She’d tell herself that later. They pressed their lips desperately to each other’s. With his leathery scent overtaking Kit and the desperation in his touch, any sense she might have had departed her. 

Even through the biting fabric, her chest filled and seemed to light up at only the insistence of his kiss. She leaned in, feeling the crushing relief in her chest. Finally they were close again and the intensity only they shared overwhelmed Kit.

“Urgh,” He groaned annoyed, leaning away an inch to rip that horrible veil away from her face. Olaf’s face twitched into a large smile when he finally saw her, and Kit found herself returning it. The truth was that Olaf had that same look in his eye that Kit could feel crushing in her chest.

  
Relief. Oh it was a sweet relief from all the unwanted yearning. They both knew it, too, staring at each other. It was a silent agreement, but it shattered right through any bit of defense Kit had ever built. Olaf’s lips clashed with hers again. She pressed into his kiss, her hand coming up to run along his neck greedily. She wanted him closer, needed him closer. She’d spent too long imagining late at night and she wanted all of him now that it was real.  
She groaned as he tugged her shoulder’s closer and the table pressed uncomfortably against her hips.

  
“Olaf,” She gasped against his needy kisses. He let go of his hold on her to shove the table. It leapt out from between them with a loud shriek out, the crystal ball toppled to roll away. Kit took the moment to pull the false teeth out of her mouth and throw them to the floor. Olaf wasted no time grabbing her waist and Kit gasped again as he yanked her close to him. He felt so right pressed against her, and she wound her arms desperately around his familiar shoulders. Olaf’s hand snaked up to tug off the brunette wig to reveal her golden hair falling around her shoulders.

  
“Ahh, Kit,” He moaned softly, and her eyes fluttered closed as his hands slid into her hair. She deepened their kiss, letting her hands crawl under the back of his shirt. It had been so damn long. So many years of remembering but not feeling, and he was still so good at finding those weak spots on her body.

Kit pulled them away from the absurd table and Olaf slammed her back against the cabinet, his hot mouth moving to her neck. She reached up to grasp her hand around his neck, her fingertips brushing into the thicker hair there. Kit lost herself to his touch, to everything she’d been missing for so many years and she reached to pull his shirt off.

“Kit?” He suddenly asked, and she blinked, pulled down from where she was floating and partially back to her senses. For just a moment she frowned at the worried tone. What in creation would make him stop right now? She reached up to brush her fingers gently against the side of his face, showing him she was listening. Her full focus on him, Kit could see the question in his deep, blue eyes. Damn him. Really? Was he really going to do _this_ right now? She didn’t need him to be a gentleman, she _needed_ him to keep going before their minds or better judgement kicked in.

“ _Don’t_ think right now,” She practically begged him, and Kit saw his twitchy smile appear.

“Oh I can do that,” He teased her, ghosting his fingertips over her sides. Kit tried to not laugh, but the absurd way he said it made her anyway. Olaf had spotted the back bedroom through the beads and dragged them in there, backing them down onto the bed. Kit looked up at him leaning over her with a smile. It had been so long, but it all tumbled back to her. She wrapped her arms around his strong shoulders, guiding his lips back to hers.

“Wait. No,” He growled, suddenly jerking away. She made a wanting sigh as he separated them. Her body shouted in protest. After so many years passed, aching for him at night. Now he was too close for her to be happy with any lack of contact. If he was stopping them again Olaf might not make it out of this room alive. “Take these out of your eyes,” He demanded. 

What was he...? Oh, the contacts. Did that really bother him so much? Something in that flattered Kit. She responded to his demands and turned to lean over the bed, her legs still pinned under him. Kit poked at her eyes until they were out. Really this was so inconvenient but… charming. Kit turned back to him and it had been worth the delay, Olaf was smiling so sweetly down at her.

“That’s more like it, love,” He purred, tugging her softly by the chin towards him again. She accepted his embrace eagerly. The way Olaf clung so tightly to her was dizzying, she could feel his years of pent up need. It felt so much like her own. The way their lips were clashing hadn’t lost any intensity.

Unlike the rest of their past lives, this, the way they came together, was left untouched and Kit surrendered to those beautiful feelings. That old current came and towered over Kit, and she was pulled from the shore. Swept out to a sea she still knew how to navigate. He whisked her away and Kit went oh so willingly.


	5. Still One Last Time

* * *

Kit had been watching him for what felt like hours, curled up on his side. Of course it hadn’t been that long at all. He was just starting to get his breathing back when Kit finally interrupted the comfortable silence. She was almost afraid to, afraid that in asking, awkwardness would strike up and ruin this, but Kit was too curious not to.

“How did you know?” She asked, running her hand over his chest.

“I just needed a good look at you, love,” Olaf replied lazily, but then that victorious smirk pulled at his face again as he lowered his gaze to meet hers. Kit’s eyes narrowed curiously. That wasn’t an actual answer. He smirked a bit at her silent pressuring.

“Also, distinguished is a bit of a mouthful for a gypsy,” Olaf snorted and Kit looked a little confused. Really? She’d known it wasn’t just the humming, but why couldn’t a gypsy say that? He laughed then, and Kit could feel it vibrate pleasantly through his chest into hers. “Which of course you can’t imagine is true Kit.”

“Well I guess there’s only one actor between us,” Kit passed it off unconcerned. It was hardly fair circumstances, but she’d probably been identified as worse. At least she’d done the accent alright, then.

“I ought to have known from the start, what with the symbol.”

“Actually there is a real Madame Lulu with nothing to do with us,” Kit offered, steering him away from the truths that could be here. It was partially true and that was the best she could offer at the moment. “I’m just borrowing.”

“Hmm, I hope she sees spirits better than you,” Olaf chuckled.

“I’ve heard she’s shockingly legitimate,” Kit tried to smile without letting it be sad. Olaf seemed quick to let it go, thankfully. Despite it all, they were still who they were now. It put a very plain wall between them. They both knew that. Olaf looked down at her, and Kit back, many unspoken things making their ways onto their faces. The truth, they both knew when they looked at each other, that this was all they had left. 

She wondered if she looked as sad as he did about it. She felt it. It wasn’t nearly as much as they’d had, once, but just now it almost felt like enough. Outside of this room it wouldn’t be, but for now it was. Kit watched him frown lightly before she turned to ignore it and lean further against his chest to place a kiss there. Olaf’s fingers threaded through her hair and he leaned down to kiss her tenderly.

Kit’s eyes slipped closed and she relaxed into the feel of his lips on hers. She’d gone on so long not feeling this way. What did a few unsaid thoughts matter? She opened her eyes, and the way he looked at her... it almost didn’t matter that she couldn’t say the things she wanted to say. Or ask about the events that still bothered her, because they both knew where that ended up. Kit’d rather stay here in silence for just a moment longer. Even if they couldn’t recover the real space between them. Even if it was absurdly easy to slip back into being with him. They were a conundrum.

This was the real problem, the reason they crumbled so quickly in front of each other. Neither of them chose to stop loving each other. They never hated one another, or lost that love… their own morals and ideas took them away. They had traveled down opposite sides of the fork and they couldn’t stay together. 

It would have been so much easier if he had just blamed her for her delivery, or hated her. In the same way it would be easier if she could do the right thing and make herself hate him for his wicked deeds since. Easier or not, Kit couldn’t stand the idea. It didn’t matter what she thought, Kit couldn’t hate him. The events of their lives were all washed in grey with the knowledge of what threw him down that path and her own guilt in having a hand in it. 

Everyone saw her as morally strong as her brothers, as the best of the Volunteers, she used to be… but inside she was weaker now. She’d seen and gone through too much. Grey overshadowed everything and he’d taken her resolute devotion to all things being noble or wicked away. How could that ideology not be gone, when someone she loved so much, who had given her so much love… would have to be truly wicked at his core to believe it all?

Olaf wasn’t wicked, not entirely. He was just lost… and she could still see it, in the way his eyes begged her to take ahold of him even now. Maybe it was just her own thoughts but… it felt real. It all felt so real still even though it had been nearly two decades. It should have all faded, by now why was it still so fresh, so unfair?

“Do you ever want to go back and change it all Olaf?” Kit found herself muttering without deciding to ask. She did. Damn, she did all the time. Did Olaf ever go back and think about what they had? What they’d had outside of each other and regret how their paths had gone? 

He didn’t say anything, until he let out a deep sigh.

“Don’t ruin it, Kit,” Olaf whispered softly, leaning his lips down to press against her shoulder. 

Kit closed her eyes, wishing she could listen to him now. She just wasn’t sure she was capable of blissfully ignoring things. She tried until now, but eventually her mind returned to her and it felt impossible to stay silent. If she could simply choose to ignore things, then they wouldn’t have ever spent all this time apart. Kit just couldn’t help it, it wasn’t like their last run in’s, back in the beginning of the end. Here, with him now it felt safe, talking about it in bed together. Like all their anger and disapproval couldn’t enter into this small, safe place.

Kit just looked up at him with a questioning frown. He stared at her for a long time before speaking as quiet as she’d ever heard him.

“The truth is none of us can change anything,” Olaf sighed again. “We never could.”

“I don’t believe that,” Kit replied softly. No one could bend time but there was always a chance to change the present and future.

“You just don’t admit defeat, love,” Olaf said, half humored, half sad. She found she hated the deep disheartened and hopeless look in his eyes. Kit ran her fingers over his chest, wondering when he’d started giving up so much. He never used to. They stared at each other sadly before Olaf captured her hand in his, pressing a long kiss to her fingers. Kit watched him intently before he turned to pull her closer to his chest.

Kit tucked her head into his shoulder, breathing in deeply. She knew they weren’t able to change it all, but she could close her eyes and stay in the present awhile longer. Olaf told her a story, something ludicrous and likely true knowing him. They fell into old habits teasing each other to wash away the desperate sadness that kept trying to strangle the happy moment they'd found themselves in.

At some point Kit had fallen asleep, listening to his even breathes. It felt as if she was falling awake, too. Kit tried to resist it, Olaf was warm next to her and she didn’t want to face the day. She was a little sore to be pulled out of the best sleep she’d had in awhile. The crack in the fabric was letting in the sunlight, though, and Kit couldn’t sleep with it in her eyes. So she forced herself to untangle from Olaf and move to pull together the fabric of the door tighter and tie it together.

Kit frowned at the sight that greeted her back in bed. She knelt down on the side and realized it hadn’t been the sunlight that had woken her. It was Olaf, apparently. She watched silently as he tossed and turned slightly, restless. She wasn’t surprised, the unkind world slipped its way into her dreams, too. The difference in him just struck Kit so deeply. He'd always been such a deep sleeper. Waking him was near impossible, it had always been a contrast how peaceful and quiet he was in his sleep and how filled with life the next day.

That had disappeared, as his face twitched and he turned on his side. Well, time hadn't been kind to any of them, had it? Kit got back in bed, reaching out to slip her arms over his chest. He did it to himself, she shouldn’t feel sorry for him, but she did. Kit didn’t want to see him sleeping uneasily, far from their youth. Maybe especially because at least some of his actions, in the beginning or longer maybe, had been at the hands of those two wicked members.

They’d all lost so much, and her anger subsided for him realizing he had lost things too. Parts of him were missing, she could see it so clearly now. Kit held onto him tighter, trying to quiet her mind so she could enjoy the small moment of reprise.   
Eventually Olaf mostly stilled. It was maybe the only way she'd ever let herself comfort him, because so much of it was his fault even if she knew he did it out of some misguided way or at the hands of others. They were still his actions, but in this moment when he didn't know it, Kit could hold him tightly against those demons and fight them for him.

When her eyes flickered open next, it was dark and Olaf was gone. Kit didn’t bother to look around, or call out to him, because she knew he wasn’t going to be there. The day moved on, their lives called them back, and Kit simply turned to lay where the bed was soaked in his smell.

She couldn’t help her first thought, or the tiny grin that clung to her face. Perhaps that made Kit strange but… his promise. Olaf didn’t wake her up with a kiss. He’d gone without seeing her. They’d skipped a sad goodbye neither wanted and… in doing so he’d left her with that same little message echoing from across the years.

'I’m going to wake you up with a kiss one last time Kit.'

Kit reached up to brush a finger across her lips… damn her, she was happy he’d been here. Maybe she was even happy he hadn’t given her one last kiss yet. For all Olaf’s talk of hopelessness, he still had a little left inside, didn’t he? It was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to end this part here, on a happy note. There was meant to be another chapter, but I think I will turn it into a separate part despite it being a stand alone. It's too dismal to go right after this and it is a skip in time! Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
